Linda Knight Seccaspina was born in Cowansville, Quebec about the same time as the wheel was invented and the first time she realized she could tell a tale was when she got caught passing her smutty stories around in Grade 7 at CHS by Mrs. Blinn.
When Derek "Wheels" Wheeler from Degrassi Jr. High died in 2010, Linda wrote her own obituary. Some people said she should think about a career in writing obituaries.
Before she laid her fingers to a keyboard, Linda owned the eclectic store Flash Cadilac and Savannah Devilles in Ottawa from 1976-1996. After writing for years about things that she cared about or pissed her off she finally found her calling. Is it sex drugs and rock n' roll you might ask? No, it is history. Seeing that her very first boyfriend in Grade 5 (who she won a Twist contest with in the 60s) is the head of the Brome Misissiquoi Historical Society and also specializes in local history back in Quebec, she finds that quite funny.
She writes every single day and is also a columnist for Hometown News and Screamin's Mamas. She is a volunteer for the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum, an admin for the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page, and a local guest speaker.
She has been now labelled an historian by the locals which in her mind is wrong. You see she will never be like the iconic local Lanark County historian Howard Morton Brown, nor like famed local writer Mary Cook. She proudly calls herself The National Enquirer Historical writer of Lanark County, and that she can live with.
Linda has been called the most stubborn woman in Lanark County, and has requested her ashes to be distributed in any Casino parking lot as close to any Wheel of Fortune machine as you can get. But since she wrote her obituary, most people assume she's already dead.
Linda has published six books, "Menopausal Woman From the Corn," "Cowansville High Misremembered," "Naked Yoga, Twinkies and Celebrities," "Cancer Calls Collect," "The Tilted Kilt-Vintage Whispers of Carleton Place," and "Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac." All are available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle.
Linda's books are for sale on Amazon or at Wisteria · 62 Bridge Street · Carleton Place, Ottawa, Canada, and at the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum · 267 Edmund Street · Carleton Place, Ottawa, Canada--Appleton Museum-Mississippi Textile Mill and Mill Street Books and Heritage House Museum and The Artists Loft in Smith Falls.
Karen Schultz sent me this Obituary-Obituary for my 2nd great-grandfather clipped from the Perth Courier, June 13, 1913. I thought it was very important and should be documented. Thank you Karen!
I was a child who missed the saddle shoes of the 40s and the 50s by a few years, but my older Albert Street friend and neighbour Verna May Wilson made up for me. There were those of of my friends who thought the return of saddle shoes in 1972 was the best thing since Lucky Charms and Lava Lamps. Then there were two or three and myself who said they hated the entire situation with I believe we said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”. And, as would be expected, there were a few old timers that had to throw in their two cents and tell “us kids” about the “olden days”. One of my friends launched the conversation, and her first words were, “Hey, saddle shoes are coming back, and my Mother thinks that is great!” For her Mother it was like smelling wine and roses— no, more like winning a sweepstakes contest. Some of you some will remember the old days of saddle shoes when you bought them sparkling white and clean, and then you tried your very hardest to get them dirty before the kids at school got the chance to do the job for you. Seems nice white saddle shoes just wasn’t the thing in those days, and it was very painful to have your friends trying to take every inch of bark off the uppers of your saddle shoes.
I really don’t wander around beginning conversations about saddle shoes these days, but when the subject has come up I once again have always always expressed my displeasure with them. I do remember hearing Verna telling me her Mother became hysterical at the sight of the new saddle shoes when she returned home after her first day at school. They were scuffed and gave the appearance of having gone through a small war, but that was the “in” way to wear saddle shoes. Day after day a bit more wear and tear became noticeable, and just about the time you really got the uppers of your saddle shoes to the point where they were socially acceptable with the “In” crowd things started happening to the rest of the shoes, and it was time to get a new pair.
There were all sorts of things Verna Wilson did with saddle shoes. She would change her laces to match an outfit and I swear some peaked out of their Albert Street Venetian blinds on a daily basis to see what she had done. But, this was a girl that came home at lunchtime to change into another fresh white blouse that she wore with her navy blue school tunic, and she was perfect in my eyes. She mentioned there was a professional scuffer at Cowansville High School that would scuff your saddle shoes for a nominal price. I heard that his scuffing business was so popular that you had to wait as long as three or four days to get his attention. My style once older never followed Verna, but it involved my Grandmother’s borrowed pearls, penny loafers, with a scent of Evening in Paris. I was also so mesmerized with tap dancing that sometimes I taped nickles on the bottom of my shoes. The coin sometimes came in handy for a call on an emergency payphone. Can you even imagine– a penny! But after months of wearing them my father began calling them “clodhoppers” as that’s what they used to call big shoes that just didn’t fit well anymore.
Shoes have always been part of everyone’s lives and they can either afford you the adoration of your peers, or jeers from the cool kids table in the lunch room. Should we get into the Hush Puppies era, or can we just stop now at Saddle Shoes and Loafers and suppress those memories? Did you know that all these shoes we wore actually changed the shape of our feet over the course of our lives? As Leonardo DaVinci once said, “The human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.” Maybe so, but after a lifetime of fashionable shoes, my feet are no masterpieces– they in fact looked like very scuffed Saddle shoes that no one would want– and that my friends are going easy on them.
I was Linda Knight, Junior bridesmaid at this wedding.:)
There is a man who lives north of the Perth on a farm and wants to get married. He has” battled’ the cold, cruel world single handed long enough and wants someone who will share his happiness and disappointments with him.
In the classified column of Perth Courier he placed an advertisement for a wife and the advertiser is patiently awaiting the replies. He promises some girl a good home but has certain requirements which he demands.
He came here from Lanark Village several months ago and says he is a hard worker and farmer. He declares that marriage is a business proposition and that every man should have a helpmate. “Down in the village” he said, “there were lots of girls but most of them don’t want to get married and those that do are not the right, kind.” The advertiser said that he did not expect to remain here long as a man could make more money travelling around than by staying in one place too long.
In 1900 people rarely left their hometown, let alone travelled around their country, so I wonder if our farmer ever found a helpmate.
Perth Courier 1910
Clipped from The Ottawa Journal, 27 Oct 1979–McNeely Tannery-Address: 12 Bell Street Carleton Place, Ontario
Joe Scott took a poor calf skin to Brice McNeely who had a tannery on the banks of the Mississippi on Bell Street and asked what he was paying for hides. Brice told him 60 cents each with ten cents off for every hole in the hide.
“You’d better take it, Mr. McNeely, and I think I owe you something for it,” was the startled reply from J. Scott as Brice looked at the hide with more holes than Swiss Cheese.
Carleton Place Herald 1900
A well known Carleton Place gent from just outside of town was noted for being careful with his pennies entered McDiarmid’s store one morning to get a winter cap. He was shown 6 or 7 and selected one that seemed suitable. He retorted of course that it was too expensive, that he could get it much cheaper elsewhere and left.
An hour later he was back but the store clerk saw him first and whisked the 7 caps under the counter. The customer said,
“I’ve come back for the cap!”
Without batting an eyelash the owner told him that others knew a bargain when they saw it and that all those caps had sold within the hour after he had left the store.
In May of 1993 the old clock that stood guard on the Almonte Post Office building was deemed fixed– or sort of. But a few days later the repaired clock ground to a stop with the hands locked in at 9:10.
Gossip on Mill Street said the clock should be fixed in time for the Ice Cream Festival– or maybe not. A Canada Post employee named Don McMillan had fixed the pulley system but the chiming mechanism still had a mind of its own.
McMillan said that it really wasn’t his fault as the ghost that lived in the building just hated to be kept awake. Some had spoken of the ghost before, but no one had really seen it except for Don McMillan. One day returning from the belfry tower he had found a previously opened door closed. Then there was the day that the basement lights were turned off– but the lights had been on when he went up.
Even though Don swore up and down there was a ghost in the building– some disagreed with him and then there were those that agreed on the poltergeist. Harriet Byrne had heard footsteps and so had several former Post Office staff.
Byrne assured everyone that the repair crew would return and fix that darn clock, no matter how much it irritated the Ghost of the Almonte Post Office.
In 1921 a severe electric storm accompanied by heavy rain, wind and hail stones, passed over this district. It was the most severe of the summer. The roof of the dyeing room at the Rosamond Woolen Co. mill was lifted off and is being repaired. The hail stones, many of them as large as marbles, fell for ten minutes and shattered the north face of the town clock on the post office. The clock did not stop however and it ticked serenely on as it always does whether on time or not and still smiles down with its battered eye. Many trees were damaged and all around the district the gale swept things before it.
In the nearby town of Almonte, there is a clock on top of the old post office. This clock runs, with its original mechanism. I got to know James, who maintains and winds the clock, and he offered to give me a tour.. CLICK
Photo-news clipping from the files of Doris Blackburn/ Karen Black Chenier
If you have read-Myth #343 The Electric Eeel of Carleton Place you have read what Rob Gardiner said about eels in Carleton Place: “When I was life guarding at Riverside Park, we would tell the kids that an eel lived under the raft to keep them from swimming under there where we couldn’t see them. I worked there a long time, but I never saw a real eel, even though others will swear they saw one. The power of suggestion must be very strong”.
But, after I posted this news clipping above from the files of Doris Blackburn/ Karen Black Chenier I got all sorts of comments:
Shane Wm EdwardsI seem to recall that they were doing this the year the Outward Bound Club at CPHS decided to take canoes out and canoe down the Mississippi toward Almonte. We had to carry the canoes past this point and there were still some small pools of water and in one of the deeper ones we saw a huge eel just swimming along the bottom. I had not known how big the eels in the Mississippi River could get. I think we only got as far as Appleton as some of our group seemed to enjoy capsizing their canoes as we went through some of the rapids. Then one group found golf balls in the river near the golf course and filled the bottom of their canoe with them. Unfortunately on the way back around Glen Isle the got swung around and the canoe tipped dumping out almost all of the golf balls.
There used to be some Americans, I believe from Detroit, who would come up every year to catch the eels and they would bring them to my father’s store to flash freeze them and then store them in ice for the trip home.
Llew LloydThe eels that were caught in front of the powerhouse were referred to as ” Ling ” . Once they passed through the turbines and out into the waters below the dam they became “Electric Eels”!
Okay I thought Lloyd was pulling my leg but he wasn’t. In the Mississippi River you supposedly can pull long, eel-like creature from any dark hole — a hole that is could be an entrance to the underworld. Okay, I can maybe make a story about the underworld of the Mississippi, but I will save that for another time.
“I heard about such a serpentine creature being thrown to the ice during an ice fishing event but the long-finned tail swiftly wrapped itself around the fisherman’s arm. Face contorted with fear, he stumbles back from the hole, trying to shake the menacing fish loose. Such an angling nightmare could continue with the widemouthed creature clamping down on the jugular and sucking the life from our hapless angler but — as anyone intimate with the virtues of the ling will attest to — this is no nightmare.”
Okay, I will stop now.
Those who know the secret of the delicately flavored firm, white, flesh hidden under a rough exterior know ling are great eating. However, the first thing most notice is that they’re different looking. Some don’t hesitate to call them ugly.
To tell you the truth if they were remaking The Godfather into a Canadian version, I wouldn’t want to find one in my bed, but some say they make for a unique and exquisite fish. They say all it takes is a big mouthful of ling meat and what might be perceived as ugly and undesirable, suddenly becomes a delicacy.
The ling is the single surviving freshwater species of the codfish family and in Ontario ling are native to cold, deep lakes and during winter often share the habitat of lake trout and even walleye. Few break out in song upon catching a ling, but many, if not seduced by their beauty on the ice, are sold by their performance on the table– the dinner table that is.
I think I will never go swimming in the Mississippi River or Lake again– not that I ever did. I will just rename that watery area Electric Avenue.
As a child, for some reason the fascination with trains and the tracks was always there. Maybe it was due to the fact my Dad rode the trains from New Brunswick to Ottawa after he went to find his Mom who had left him in England. He had little money in his pocket when he arrived in Canada and this was a way to travel the country and not have to pay.
I spent much time watching the trains, there were side tracks between Montreal Road and McArthur Road. On certain tracks they would drop of various sections of the train.. There was a place for Oil Tank cars to be emptied into the Permanent oil tanks. There were cattle cars filled with Cattle to be dropped off at the slaughter house. Now this was not a nice place one could hear the cattle and the end result was not a good one.
Across the two lane of tracks was National Grocer and they had a set of tracks to drop off the groceries, to be delivered to the various stores in the area. Fruits and Vegetables arrived this way, we sometimes would investigate the premises of these box cars and sample the goods. Now workers from National Grocery would spot us and tell us of the many spiders that could be found in the bananas. This did not deter us for when the thought of fresh fruit took over we would once again investigate. I did very well climbing the cars once again I was with the boys. (A BIT OF A BAD CHILD – MAYBE – sure no prissy little girl.) Now one has to remember FRESH Fruit was a luxury item as money was tight.
I had become at ease with the trains and had little fear. I would wait for them to stop at the various spots and before long would be climbing on the ladders, hanging on and going to the next stop and jumping off. Our neighbors and playmates had moved from Gardner Street to Queen Mary Road in Overbrook, I was rather bored and came up with the idea that maybe I should ride the train to see the kids. I could drop off on Queen Mary Street, as it was a crossing and the train went slower, I was quite confident and though this will be easy.
Now one gets to know the times of the trains so it was not hard to plan my time. . You soon realize that the train usually slowed down between the Montreal Road and McArthur Road. Over to the tracks I went and when the train was going by I reached for the rail. I was so intent on what I was doing I hadn’t noticed my Dad was behind me. Just as I was reaching he grabbed me by the back of my clothes. At that moment I was never so frightened for I thought I was going to fall under the train and be run over.
I do not think my feet touched the ground the whole way home. And I did get punished.
YES THE BUTT WAS RED
The Vanier Parkway, specifically the portion between Prince Albert and Beechwood, was constructed along the same route that once carried the tracks of the Bytown and Prescott Railway Company through the commercial, industrial and residential areas of today’s Overbrook, Vanier and New Edinburgh. At the time the railway was constructed, this area of the Ottawa region was known as Junction Gore—the northwestern corner of Gloucester Township located at the junction of the Ottawa and Rideau Rivers.
The area continued to grow and small businesses started to open up along Montreal Road and McArthur. By 1909, the villages of Janeville, Clarkstown and Clandeboye amalgamated to form the new village, and then town, of Eastview. Sizable vacant lots along the railway provided the opportunity for larger industries to set up shop.
The Thompson family is celebrating 175 years on our farm in Galbraith this year. We are having a family gathering in August to celebrate. I was wondering if you would be willing to post a request on your page on behalf of our family. We’re looking to see if anyone in the community has old photos, stories, memories of Black Rock that they would be willing to share with us.
If you are willing, perhaps people could comment and I could reach out to them for more information (ex. copy of the photo). .
The Bridge across the Indian River on Galbraith Rd. is being replaced this summer and a detour to our park will be in place for the next 9 weeks. The following is our suggested route to get here if coming from Almonte or Carleton Place. It will add about 4 km to your visit.
Township of Lanark Highlands
Galbraith Bridge Replacement
GALBRAITH BRIDGE CLOSURE AND DETOUR
Galbraith Bridge (crossing Clayton Lake) will be closed to all vehicle traffic for approximately 9 weeks starting on July 9, 2018.
THOMPSON’S BLACK ROCK PARK
SUGGESTED DETOUR ROUTE WOULD BE FROM
UNION HALL CONTINUE WEST ON WOLFE GROVE ROAD THEN RIGHT ON TO DARLING RD. AND THEN A RIGHT ONTO GALBRAITH RD.
FOLLOW GALBRAITH RD. TO THOMPSON ROAD
1921
